we sleep as if we are forgetters and then we dream sometimes about ghosts but mostly that we are humans who dream and remember —P.L. Thomas
we sleep (a restless night in new york)
grounded (these lies you must come to terms with)
did they tell you the feathers are merely ornamental? that’s to keep you from trying that's to keep you from flying grounded ground into dust • did they tell you you are no bird— or of course we need the babies? need you overfull weighted down • these lies you must carry these lies you must come to terms with —P.L. Thomas
the last rest area in Missouri (this trail of me)
I guess I’ve always been a delicate man
“Lemonworld,” The National
i tiptoe through your garden but it is dark so there will be carnage i should have done this barefoot and in the daylight i realize stepping blindly then i could feel and see this trail of me my silent destructions (other people would just tapdance on your heart or carelessly bloody your shins ruthless and graceless) in the morning you will find me surefooted knees caked in mud my head resting apologetically against your back door —P.L. Thomas
this simple thing our happiness
Our hands are covered in cake/But I swear we didn’t have any
“The Geese of Beverly Road,” The National
when we are living our calm life our own life just for us and between us does that bother you? no let’s be blunt why does that bother you? it is no skin off your teeth or even your knees this simple thing our happiness your happiness kneels on the throat of our happiness our unhappiness is your singular glee this sad life of yours makes us sad for you and yours even as the weight of it suffocates us we’ve asked for nothing except the space to live our calm life our own life for us and between us and it costs you nothing except your kindness a kindness you cannot afford —P.L. Thomas
so low
the next time i come i hope you are t/here —P.L. Thomas
sleeves
my father’s fingers brought her sleep
“my father moved through dooms of love,” e.e. cummings
i wear my father on my sleeves it is a childhood memory specific and vivid as if true my father taught me how to wear a collared shirt properly tucked in carefully rolling up each sleeve three times with the cuff neat and smooth maybe on the same day he taught me how to tie a necktie like a grown man my father was wrong about many things but i carry him in my collared shirts and ties i wear my father on my sleeves —P.L.Thomas
the universe (Year 61)
no Body understands the universe a few never even consider the universe they are lucky many exclaim that they know the Universe they are dangerous others spend their lives trying to understand the universe they struggle to sleep some know only one thing: that they do not understand the universe somehow they sleep the universe speaks to the fewest among us they listen no Body understands the universe —P.L. Thomas
december 2021 prayer
The best lack all conviction, while the worst/Are full of passionate intensity.
“The Second Coming,” William Butler Yeats
the day is blanketed gray the sky the color of smoke the entire world burned until nothing remains except ash i cannot feel anything because i feel everything a tree stripped of bark trunk and limbs the color of bone we sat in cars houses apartments watching through our windows the world razed maybe next year will be better we pray if we stay inside waiting and hoping it true —P.L. Thomas
autumn
autumn is a mother fucker trees all topped in yellows and reds the colors of death before the leaves all fall we gather around smiling “isn’t the foliage beautiful” ignoring the browned leaves crunching as we walk —P.L. Thomas
binary code
i am one you are too two as one orbiting the sun —P.L. Thomas
Selected Poetry 